


News

by imsfire



Series: Family Holiday [5]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: AU, Draven is not a dick, Fix-It, Gen, Rogue One needs a hug, Tears, but which they can't quite believe, good news, group hug, happiness, rebelcaptain fan week, when it happens, which everyone has been praying for
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-12
Updated: 2017-04-12
Packaged: 2018-10-18 03:13:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10608120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imsfire/pseuds/imsfire
Summary: Another short piece for the rebelcaptain fan week on tumblr.  Written for (again) the prompt "Comfort".





	

**Author's Note:**

> Another short piece for the rebelcaptain fan week on tumblr. Written for (again) the prompt "Comfort".

The hotel reception is quiet, lamps burning along the terrace, when they get back from their celebratory meal.  Relatively little drinking has gone on; he’s fairly sure Jyn didn’t touch a drop, and Cassian only had a couple of glasses.  But then, as the days have passed and he’s begun to catch up on sleep and to relax, he too is suddenly finding that alcohol has an unexpectedly strong kick.  Where it once took a whole bottle to get Bodhi drunk, a week on Naboo has reduced his capacity to a startling extent.  He tells himself it’s the fresh air, and being tired out from all the hiking and swimming; and perhaps too from letting himself hope at last.  He doesn’t need to hide himself or blind himself anymore, he can just look up and see the world, and not be afraid. 

And now Jyn and the Captain are engaged.  Well, it’s been an open secret for almost as long as he’s known them (& he giggles, suddenly remembering the night he found out, and the chagrin on their faces as they realised the door was unlocked).  So their relationship will no longer be technically fraternisation; and Command will finally have to make up its collective mind whether or not to discipline or congratulate them.

He pushes open the swing door and holds it for them as they come up the steps, arms round one another.  Cassian is wearing the shabbiest of his t-shirts, Jyn has flowers in her hair, they’re beaming at one another and it’s clear that neither of them has a care in the galaxy.  Chirrut and Baze bringing up the rear are also arm in arm. 

It’s so good to see everyone he loves this happy. 

The night receptionist gets up from his desk and comes forward with an anxious expression.  He’s very young and his smart uniform jacket looks a tad large for him; he swallows before speaking, and Bodhi realises he’s worried.  “Captain Andor, there was a call for you from your HQ.” 

“What?” Cassian’s mouth goes down at the corners.

“The caller said it was very urgent and I was to put you through as soon as you got back.”

“Damn it, okay, fine.” He sighs, unwraps his arms from round Jyn.  “Did they leave a name?”

“Uh, yes, sir, it was—“ the boy hurries back to the desk and grabs up a data-pad to check –“I’m sorry, I can’t read my colleague’s hand – it looks like _Daven_?”

“Shit,” says Cassian, suddenly sounding stone-cold sober and angry with it.  “It’s the general.  Okay, you better call him back.  Shit, shit, _shit_ ,” he adds.  “Jyn, I’m so sorry.”

“Not your fault if he’s being a dick.”  Jyn sounds more rueful than angry, but she follows him to the reception desk and the comm-link there.

“It may not be bad news,” Chirrut puts in.

“It’s Draven,” Bodhi says bitterly. “It’s unlikely to be anything else.” He isn’t much given to disliking people but he’s always found it hard to feel anything beyond professional respect for General Draven.  The man’s such a miserable cold fish, he thinks.  It’s absolutely typical of him to disturb Cassian and Jyn’s holiday. 

“You’d better make it a private link,” Cassian is telling the clerk wearily.  The lad nods and passes him a pair of headphones before keying in the code that sends the transmission request signal.

Jyn is looking at her fiancé with an expression so lost that Bodhi wants to howl like an animal for her.  He knows that wouldn’t be much comfort; but the idea that her time with Cassian may be about to be cut short – and today of all days, when they’ve just decided to marry, when they’ve allowed themselves to think about the future at last – it’s just _mean_ of the Force to do this to them.

He tells her that, sidling up to put an arm round her cautiously.  “This isn’t fair.  It – it isn’t _fair_.  Just when we’ve reached a point where saying something isn’t fair doesn’t seem simply ridiculous, because the war, you know, so nothing’s fair, that you should have to deal with something that is just so completely unfair now – am I making sense?” He knows he isn’t; the wine talking.  Krif, why did I let myself get drunk?

She hugs him and nods; says nothing.  Her eyes are fixed on Cassian, standing rigid at the hotel comm-link. 

The other two come up behind Bodhi and Jyn, and he feels Baze’s big hand on his shoulder, steadying.  For once Chirrut is silent.  Cassian bends his head to murmur inaudibly into the microphone.

The receptionist stands a respectful distance off, biting his lip.  He looks away from the Captain after a moment and across at them.  Bodhi wonders what they look like to him; they’re an odd little group, three sallow men with dark Jedhan eyes and anxious faces, and one very small, very pale woman sticking her bottom lip out in a look of belligerent defensiveness.

Cassian is on the comm now; he glances round at them, his brow furrowed.  Then slowly his mouth drops open and his eyes widen in shock.  _Krif, that’s not good._  

Jyn starts forward and reins herself in with an effort.  Her back is shaking under Bodhi’s arm.  He rubs it weakly, wishing he had something more to offer in the way of comfort.  Damn Draven, damn the war, damn things being unfair just when they could have let themselves think _fair_ was a thing again.

“Yes sir,” says Cassian in a thin voice; and then “Thank you.”

He removes the head-set and lays it down on the desk; turns away, and suddenly staggers.

“Cassian!”  Jyn breaks away from the little group and runs the three paces to his side as he moves back and stumbles into a table.  He sits down on it heavily.  She reaches for him, eyes frantic with worry; and he whimpers as he raises his hands to embrace her.  Bodhi hurries to join them, the Guardians right behind him.  For a moment the only sound is an inarticulate gasping from Cassian.  Jyn has wrapped her arms round him and she pulls him close, cradling his head on her breast, stroking his hair.  She looks terrified.

It’s Baze who finally manages to say something.  “What has happened?  Try to speak, little brother.  It will feel better once you have said it.”

Cassian makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat; he sobs, and Bodhi bends, trying to catch the words.  If there are words.

“Cassian, Cassian, shh,” murmurs Jyn.  He’s shaking all over now, his hands gripping her shirt convulsively.  Somehow she keeps her voice steady.  “I’m here, Cassian, I’m here, love, shh, it’s okay…”

Cassian gasps again and this time Bodhi hears him choke out something, a tiny phrase, just three broken words.  He straightens, staring at the others, seeing Jyn’s eyes widen at the same instant.  She must have heard the same thing.  But Baze and Chirrut didn’t, and nor did the clerk, hovering a few feet away looking stunned and scared.

“He said the war’s over,” Bodhi tells them.  His own voice seems to have vanished down his throat.  He hauls in a breath and repeats himself, and now it sounds too loud, in the silence, in the completely shocked stillness around him.  “The war’s over.”

Cassian raises his head at last and says in a strangled wheeze “Yes it is, yes, it’s over, it’s over” before burying his face against Jyn’s body again. 

Jyn, for the first and only time Bodhi has ever seen her do so, bursts into tears. 

He takes a shaky step forward and hugs them both.  After a second, something warm and solid wraps itself round him; Baze’s huge arms folding him and Chirrut and the lovers all into one shaking, weeping mass of happiness.

When he opens his eyes again he sees the receptionist is crying too; and it’s Chirrut who snakes an arm out of the group and beckons to him to join them.

“I’m alright, sir, thanks, I think,” the boy says.  His professional voice has vanished, replaced by a strong local accent.  “Is it really over?”

“It’s over.” It’s Cassian who affirms it.  He’s just managed to stand up again and now he tucks Jyn’s head under his chin protectively, though his own face is just as tear-stained as hers.  At least now he’s through the first shock he’s speaking more-or-less normally; hoarse with emotion, but clear and certain.  “There was a big battle at Jakku and we won, we broke them finally.  There’s an armistice.  It’s over.  It should be announced officially any time now.  It’s all over.”

“My dad’ll come home,” says the receptionist, starting to smile through his own tears.  “Oh my - I can’t believe it.  I - I need to comm my ma.” He looks down at his hands, shaking on the smooth timber of the desk.  “Oh my...”

“Come,” says Chirrut, holding out his hand again, smiling his beatific smile; and the boy comes to him and awkwardly, happily, joins in the group hug.


End file.
